Dark hats and Dirty boots
by ibuberu
Summary: But there was no man with a blue hat and beautiful skin, only an empty house. – RileyHikari.


**world** – game  
******notes** – for siruru, and I've always wanted to try writing this pairing.

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**Dark Hats and Dirty Boots**

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* * *

She stood in the belly of the caves, looking down at the egg with faking indifference in her eyes. Her mouth was a thin line on her countenance as she weighed the green-spotted oval in her hands. It was cold and heavy like a stone as she tucked it under her arm and circumvented the area with a straight face. He was gone, and she was alone again, one girl in the middle of a habitat flourishing with irritable rock-types. The brunette double-checked for his presence, looking over her shoulder to see only sleeping graveler and listless geodude that cooed over the line of their territory.

She felt the coldness of the caves nip at her bare shoulders and she wondered why her heart felt so worn out. It had only been a few series of battles, a small amount of times they had gotten lost in the winds and bends of the caves. It wasn't supposed to mean anything more than a little compatible partnership and a brushing up of her double battle skills. But the way he stood up to those Team Galatic grunts, the way he moved in battle and healed her pokémon with tenderness and care, it had been so entrancing.

She didn't say a word as she hurried out through the exit he had walked through, and when she emerged into the setting sun, she saw nothing apart from the great reach of the ocean waves. She jumped down the ledges with quick, adapted footing, boots squelching against the pieces of rubble that littered the ground. And when she made it to the cosy little cottage at the foot of the caves, she found her heart gaining back lost momentum.

But the lonely house was abandoned and empty. There was no man with a blue hat and beautiful skin living inside of it. She could only admire a bed that had been made and a table that was left barren and neglected. But she could smell the metallic scent of the house's owner, the confirmation that it had been lived in once, a long time ago or perhaps yesterday; she did not know. But that didn't matter, and at present her heart plodded to a disappointing tempo in her chest.

When no one was looking, she hugged the egg to her chest and rested her weary body on the blankets and pillows to soak in the warmth.

It was only because she was tired.

* * *

She kept the egg cradled in the clothes folded in her bag and she checked for its safety in an almost compulsive way. After every huge jump or fall she took, she hastily flipped open her bag just to see the calming image of an uncracked shell; never mind that her knees were bleeding profusely and her arms had been stained with large gashes. She realised that she wasn't quite so motherly with any previous eggs she had carried on her journey, but dismissed the taxing thought. As she sprayed disinfectant on her cuts and applied bandages across her marked skin, she hummed songs to the egg resting in her bag.

It was a particularly nasty fall, for the slippery slopes and edges of Mount Coronet were anything but sympathising or friendly. A spurt of pain shot through her ankle with each step she limped, but she eventually made it to the summit. She stood out above Snowpoint city, and down below the snow storm carried on. The dim dawn slowly leaked out of the sky to make way for the rays of the sun. She took out the egg and sat on a sizable rock to observe the sunrise, propping her chin on its shell. As the newly awakened sun made the sky its very own stage, even her ankle stopped complaining about the hurt.

He had told her to show the egg the world, and she couldn't remember where her resolve had emerged from – but it was there, burning like the aura he had emanated from his palm.

She did this only because she kept her promises.

* * *

Along the route to Sunnyshore, her eyes happened to stray upon the top of a blue hat across the beach. The person was a mere dot in the distance, but the dark colour instantly had her attention. She bolted down the length of the beach, kicking sparkles of sand aside and making the frolicking children ecstatic and compelled to run after her. Her lungs demanded for release and her heart yelled at her for overworking it so suddenly – but she couldn't find herself to care about her body. However, as she reached the end of the beach, the tracks she left behind in the sand left deeper and deeper impressions as her pace slowed devastatingly.

Her eyes widened, and a strangled noise escaped her dry, papery throat.

It was a blue fisherman's hat with a feather attached to the side, hanging off a mocking wooden pole that stood at the height of a regular man. The pole taunted her and taunted her, glaring at her through the blistering heat of the sun; and it too, was laughing at her naivety from high above on all-knowing ground.

When a fisherman inched up and asked her why she was crying to herself, she explained briefly that she had lost something dear in the waves of the ocean. Through the tears, she unzipped her bag to see the egg unscathed.

If only that was the truth.

* * *

She kissed the little egg and pretended it was someone else looking back at her with longing that reflected her own.

Only because that night, she felt especially lucky to feel it twitch and shake in her hands.

* * *

When tiny cracks began to encompass the egg, she was in the middle of the ocean and on the back of her carefree empoleon. She was consumed with wonder and panic as she struggled to keep her balance and hold the wriggling baby in place, eyes unable to tear themselves away from the spectacle. As the shell fell apart, it created ripples in the ocean and an infant's first cry rang in the salty air. She hugged the little pokémon dearly to her chest to prevent it from dropping into the waters before scrutinizing the newest pokémon in her team. He was a handsome creature with big hazel eyes and a curious gaze that stole her fragile heart. He regarded her with endearment and instinctive closeness, reaching out to prod her arm.

The riolu growled quietly as he buried the top of his blue crown into her hold, and her empoleon stopped surfing the waves when he realised his trainer was crying silent, controlled tears.

It was not her fault; it was only because she felt sad that the riolu would never have a father.

* * *

When she saw him standing around and chatting carelessly with Buck at the Battleground, her heart skidded and tripped over in her chest. She suddenly felt herself straightening her skirt and rearranging her red scarf, her body heating and her hands growing clumsy. Half of her felt like giving him a punch – the other wanted to just run up from behind and tackle him with a hug; either way, she would be able to blame both courses of action on treacherous hormones and irresponsible mood-swings. In the end, she settled on just walking up to him.

But reassured herself that it was only because she wanted to show him the hatched riolu.

* * *

She called out the riolu and he ran a careful hand over the tiny creature's head, and as the fighting-type instantly warmed up to his fingers, he began to grin with unrestraint. The scene scrawled her heart with heavy words – the wish that it was her he was touching softly and smiling at. But she swallowed everything and spoke not a word, rationale and excitement clicking cups of friendly tea in her mind. She bided herself with patience, trying not to believe that she was envious of her riolu.

He was stupid to seem so carefree – hadn't he known how worried she had been? How many times on her travels, she was slowed by the idea that he had been affected by the bombs wracking the earth or caught in the dimensions twisting into nameless abysses? She stilled her thoughts; because it was not possible, he was too strong and heroic to let that kind of thing happen to him. Looking at him now, she could barely see that he had changed – he was largely unaffected by the previous disasters that revolved the region, whereas she had probably gleaned more maturity than anyone. Had he noticed that she had developed and changed, that she was no longer simply just a girl? She snorted inwardly and told her imagination to stop misbehaving.

When he carried the riolu in his arms and stood up to face her, an impressed smile spread across his face. "You put a lot of effort into raising this little guy," he said, bouncing the pokémon in his hold to induce a bout of delighted growls and clapping paws.

She did not know how to answer that, but for him to notice how many buckets of sweat and tears she had poured into raising the little one – her cheeks coloured with a flustered pink. She mumbled a timid 'thank you' because what else was there for her to say?

The riolu began to grow bored of his perch, tossing his paws into the air to reach out for her.

"He misses you already," he nearly laughed, "shall I return him to you?"

She found herself nodding wordlessly, combing a hand restlessly through her hair before extending her hands to take her riolu back from his arms. When their fingers touched, she felt a jolt of energy speed through her body – and she looked into his eyes and noticed that he had felt the same sensation too. She quickly retreated from him with the pokémon tucked in her caress, utterly embarrassed.

"Your aura's gotten stronger," Riley sounded astounded, letting more emotion fill his naturally stoic face. He shined, seeming so dashing under that blue hat; she must have looked messy in her muddy pink boots. "Would you like to battle sometime?" he proceeded to ask, eyes wide and tone truly eager – like he was just as equally elated to meet her again and talk to her and feel her aura.

She nodded agreeably, and finally found the courage to smile back.

* * *

And it was only because she couldn't think of a better way to spend any day.


End file.
